Should I start with the depressing and confusing business of decyphering school requirements, credits and courses? Or maybe I should mail off that $115 check for services rendered to my accountant, as well as a notebook to a friend, both long overdue. Or maybe I should go on down to the bank, pay my parking ticket, and my loan interest (also both long overdue) and then buy some groceries so that I can eat today.
...or no, wait. I know. I should go pick up my car from the garage (where I had to have it towed yesterday) and pay the $170 for repairs. Then I should screw my plans to head up north to see a friend who is moving to montreal, and whom I will never see again. I should forget that I was banking on spending my so-called "spare" cash on a night out (as well as the gas to get there), as it is now being spent on my damn car.
THEN, to round out my perfect 2 days off, I should sit in my stuffy room, with no money, and no where to go, and hide from the contractor who is demolishing part of the house, making loud, incredibly obnoxious power tool noises, covering everything around me in a layer of plaster, and making it impossible for me to cook (not that I really have anything to cook)...
And FINALLY, I should sit in said stuffy room with me boy, who is equally peeved at aformentioned circumstances. We shall both become emaciated remnants of human beings and die, sad and alone, in our self-inflicted tomb of doom, blanketed in a white layer of plaster, he clutching the tv remote, I, clutching my checkbook.
... For I died agonizing over why I'm such a tool when it comes to debts and money.
...or no, wait. I know. I should go pick up my car from the garage (where I had to have it towed yesterday) and pay the $170 for repairs. Then I should screw my plans to head up north to see a friend who is moving to montreal, and whom I will never see again. I should forget that I was banking on spending my so-called "spare" cash on a night out (as well as the gas to get there), as it is now being spent on my damn car.
THEN, to round out my perfect 2 days off, I should sit in my stuffy room, with no money, and no where to go, and hide from the contractor who is demolishing part of the house, making loud, incredibly obnoxious power tool noises, covering everything around me in a layer of plaster, and making it impossible for me to cook (not that I really have anything to cook)...
And FINALLY, I should sit in said stuffy room with me boy, who is equally peeved at aformentioned circumstances. We shall both become emaciated remnants of human beings and die, sad and alone, in our self-inflicted tomb of doom, blanketed in a white layer of plaster, he clutching the tv remote, I, clutching my checkbook.
... For I died agonizing over why I'm such a tool when it comes to debts and money.
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(some would say I havent even done the grown up thing at 34....)